


Let's Make a Deal

by fangsandwires



Series: Crack Pairing Series [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, PWP, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, and Swindle is just Swindle, crackship, semi-story pwp, they get stuck in a vault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 16:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17790557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangsandwires/pseuds/fangsandwires
Summary: Absolute crack-pairing, prompted by a friend to do something with Swindle and Prowl.





	Let's Make a Deal

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is confused with 'click', 'nano-click', etc, there's a time unit explanation thing on the wiki. 
> 
> Short version: Click = 1.5 minutes, nano-click = approx. 1 second, cycle = approx. 1.2 hours
> 
> If you like this, I'll probably be posting more random pairing bits in this series, so enjoy! :D

For all the infinite possibilities that crossed Prowl’s processor, _this_ was no where close to a probable scenario.

Somehow, during the crossfire of a sting operation for black market weapons dealing, an explosion went off, causing Prowl and _Swindle_ of all mechs to get thrown straight into the weapons vault and _locked_ _inside_.

Prowl hadn’t put his blaster down for a good half cycle, and _especially_ not after the gunfire stopped outside. He’d already tried to contact his mechs, but the vault was apparently lined with shielding to keep whatever was inside away from prying eyes. The realization just made him scowl and glare at the criminal stuck in the container with him.

Swindle was sitting across from the officer, servos up and self-preservation strings working hard to try and thread together some sort of plan to get his aft out of there without any new holes. So far, he’d come up with; try talking and get shot, try moving and get shot, and also try talking and moving, then get shot and arrested. Absolutely none of these were ideal.

He watched as Prowl tried to send a ping to someone again, eyeing the other mech for a moment as his digits twitched slightly in thought. A sudden shot startled Swindle as a smoking blast mark sizzled about a foot from his left arm on the back wall. It was also dangerously close to a crate that Swindle knew had some gnarly landmines packaged inside. The dealer opened his intake before he remembered how bad of an idea that was.

“Watch where you’re shooting! You want us both to go up with this place?!” Swindle’s thought process caught up a nano-click after he let the words out his mouth, resisting the urge to swiftly cover his own intake in regret. Maybe if he didn’t move too much it’d avoid Prowl’s happy trigger finger.

“I assume you mean, ‘don’t shoot the illegal landmines in that box’, right? Maybe if it didn’t look like you were going for something, I wouldn’t have.” Prowl replied sourly, blaster still trained on Swindle with a steady hand.

“I was _thinking_ of how to get out of here. I can’t help it if it’s a nervous twitch, considering you _have a blaster on me_ , and I’m _unarmed_.” Swindle immediately replied, and promptly wanted to kick himself for it. Prowl glared harder, but didn’t fire another shot. Ok, this was getting somewhere. Less laser fire. Excellent.

Raising an optic ridge, Swindle gave the officer a once-over and a few more escape route ideas flirted through his processor. He’d have to play his cards right, but there might be a small, tiny, almost insignificant chance he’d get out of this damn vault with his frame intact.

“Y’know, if it makes you feel better, just cuff me and stop pointing that thing at my head if you’re so worried about me ‘going for something’.” Swindle suggested, servos still above his helm. Prowl looked absolutely unimpressed at the suggestion, adjusting his grip on his weapon with a click that made Swindle almost flinch.

“Why? So you can take my blaster, shoot me, and get out of here? I don’t think so.” Swindle must’ve looked insulted at the inference, because Prowl raised an optic ridge at his reaction.

“I’m not some martial arts master, I’m just a mech that makes deals. Good ones, in my personal opinion, and I’d even be willing to offer to get us _both_ out of here, _sans_ blaster holes.” Swindle’s suggestion was met with another glower, but that wasn’t a ‘no’. At least as far as the dealer was concerned. He’d just have to figure out how to tip the scale to his advantage.

There was a long pause. Prowl didn’t lower his gun, but a couple clicks passed before he apparently finished running whatever possible outcomes were most likely and asked, “How, exactly, _were_ you going to get out of here, then?”

It was a loaded question, but Swindle glanced off in thought before he replied, “Well, ideally, you _don’t_ shoot me, and I can probably fiddle with the control box and get the locks undone. I’m not gonna pretend you’ll let me go, but I _do_ ask for some kind of compensation. Besides not shooting me, that is. After all, nothing’s free.” Swindle’s grin was short-lived after he heard Prowl’s blaster power up again. Ok. That might’ve been too much.

The dealer quickly waved his servos and backpedaled,”Wait wait wait! Shoot me and you’ll never get out of here! Even if they try to blast the doors open, if these mines go up, you and the rescue party will be blown to bits! They probably won’t even get through the first layer of plating on this thing!” Swindle wasn’t ready to be shot. He still had so many bots that owed him money!

Prowl narrowed his optics, but the blaster’s whine slowly faded out after a moment. Begrudgingly, the cop moved to pull out his stasis cuffs with his free servo, holding them up a bit before he ordered, “Don’t. Move.”

Swindle nodded quickly and kept his arms in place as Prowl walked up and snapped the cuffs around his wrists, the device buzzing to life before he slowly lowered his arms with a small sigh of relief. Thank Primus, his arms were getting tired.

“As ridiculous as the situation is, _what_ exactly, did you expect as ‘compensation’.” Swindle blinked.

“Are you serious?”

“Humor me.”

Swindle honestly didn’t think he’d get this far. Sure, Prowl still had his blaster in-hand and finger on the trigger, but since the cop already took his first suggestion, why not test the waters a little more?

Prowl shifted his blaster arm, and the broker snapped back to reality. Right. Trying not to get shot. Swindle cleared his intake and suggested cheerily, “I don’t know, maybe let me keep 45% of the stock and run off into the sunset?” The scowl he received was a definite ‘no’. Swindle shrugged. It was worth a try.

“Quit playing games or I _will_ shoot you and find my own way out of here.” The threat didn’t have as much bite as before, but that was just another shift in Swindle’s favor. Alright, new plan. Go with the most plausible ideas, and work his way down from there.

“Alright, alright. That was ambitious, I know.” Swindle gave a shrug and smirked a bit before he continued, “But if I’m not getting any of my assets back, and I’m pretty sure you don’t wanna pay me with chits, I _do_ accept another form of currency.” The dealer raised his optic ridge slyly, and Prowl scowled again. Apparently that wasn’t obvious enough.

Swindle sat back a bit on his heels, shifting his servos in the cuffs to an open-palm gesture as he clarified, “Let’s say, oh, three overloads and I’ll get us out of here.” The gun was pointed right at his helm this time, but the dealer managed just enough courage to look disappointed.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather shoot you and wait for my backup to-” Swindle cut him off before the thought was finished, “To blow the door wide open, and you along with it? C’mon, I’m cutting you a good deal.” Swindle tilted his helm a little and grinned. He had the cop on the ropes, and he knew it.

“Besides, there’s no cameras or anything, so it’s not like anyone’ll know. And who the slag is gonna believe it if they found out, anyway?” The encouragement seemed to make Prowl falter just a bit, and Swindle pressed his luck, “Even if _I’m_ the one suggesting it, it’s not a bad trade. Little bit of work, and out we go. I’ll even let you take me down to the station.” Swindle raised his optic ridge, knowing that getting out and getting his arrest was just icing on the oil cake. Prowl looked slightly more conflicted than a moment ago.

The officer glowered again before _finally_ subspacing his gun with a great deal of chagrin. Swindle gave a smug smile as the weapon disappeared, but jumped when Prowl suddenly grabbed the cuffs and yanked his servos back into the air, leaning in close to growl, “Keep them there, and shut up.”

Swindle swallowed a bit of oral lubricant that he hadn’t realized he had in his intake before nodding in agreement. Well. It worked. The dealer didn’t have time to pat himself on the back as Prowl’s servo came up and brushed against his neck cabling, the other starting to trace down his frame with investigative touches.

Prowl still had an annoyed look to his faceplates, but Swindle had to admit, he could’ve picked a worse bot to finagle into a frag deal. A sudden brush against the edge of his windshield caused the dealer to arch a little into the touch, but Swindle planned to make the mech work for it.

“C’mon, is that it? I thought you wanted to get-” He was cut off when Prowl pushed a thumb up against his jaw, forcing his intake shut followed by another glare.

“I said, ‘shut up’.” Prowl kept his servo in place, firmly holding the other mech’s neck and jaw as his free hand slid down and groped the bottom edge of Swindle’s glass, drawing a small groan from the dealer. When Swindle lowered his arms just a little, Prowl snapped, “Keep them up, arms dealer.” Swindle obeyed, and sealed his lipplates shut to resist saying ‘yes sir’.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

The sentiment was redacted when Prowl’s servo traced down to an inner seam near Swindle’s hip plating. The cop found a particular wire and started to just roll it between his fingers, adjusting his pressure with every movement back and forth. It probably took less than a click for Swindle’s fans to kick on, each roll feeling more tortuous than pleasurable after the first four or five twists.

Swindle couldn’t help a frustrated groan at the teasing, but Prowl’s facade didn’t crack at all. The only thing he did was pinch the wire in response and make Swindle give a small grunt when the teasing turned into a sharp pressure for a moment. It didn’t last long, since Prowl released the wire afterward and slid his servo down to Swindle’s port covering, tracing the outside of the panel as he ordered, “Open. I want to get this over with.”

Even if Prowl sounded absolutely irritated that he had to even deal with the situation, Swindle shivered a bit at the demanding tone. He idly wondered if it was because Prowl was an officer and that was just how he talked, but the sharp glare he got for not immediately doing as he was told sent a bit of static down Swindle’s backstrut. Nope, that was just Prowl, apparently.

The officer’s servo tightened slightly around Swindle’s neck cabling as a warning while the other firmly pressed against the plating, which drew a stifled groan from the dealer as his panel snapped away with a click. Ooh this might be bad. Swindle had said ‘three’ because he thought it’d take long enough for some of his lackies to come looking, but that plan might not work out as intended.

Prowl’s digit ghosted over the outer mesh of Swindle’s valve, drawing a full frame shiver from the tradesmech. The officer gave a calculating hum at the reaction, increasing his pressure just a bit as he repeated the action. Swindle groaned and shifted his legs apart just a bit more, arms going a bit slack as he focused just a little too much on the servo against his valve.

The mistake didn’t go unnoticed, and instead of pulling away, Prowl found the dealer’s outer node and pinched, just hard enough for the discomfort. Swindle gave a small cry at the sudden discipline but couldn’t help the jerk of his hips against Prowl’s servo.

“Keep. Them. Up. I won’t tell you a third time.” Prowl increased his pressure just a little more, and Swindle jerked his arms back up with a whine. The officer let up on his harsh grip and moved to circle the node gently instead. Swindle’s frame gave another quiver at the switch from borderline pain to soothing pleasure, already over sensitive and fans spun up to maximum. Primus, Prowl had barely been touching him and that first overload just kept creeping up with every nano-click.

A little jump of static went between the officer’s digits as he started alternating firm and light passes across the node, mimicking his earlier pattern with the wire. It only took two or three alterations before Swindle was pushing back against Prowls servo with every twitch of his fingers, tilting his helm back slightly to open his intake to try and get more air into his systems.

Even though Swindle couldn’t see the cop’s expression, Prowl was watching the other mech’s reactions with a judging gaze, mentally calculating how long it would take for Swindle to reach his first overload. Deciding on the quickest route, Prowl shifted his hand and replaced his fingers with a thumb on the dealer’s node, sliding the previous digits right into Swindle’s valve with almost no resistance.

Swindle jerked and gave a loud moan at the intrusion, but his frame automatically tried to ride the cop’s digits, calipers cycling down. It was better than just getting his node toyed with, but not. quite. enough.

Prowl frowned slightly and gave a rough press against Swindle’s node before he slipped a third finger inside as he hissed, “Greedy mech.”

While the statement was true, Swindle didn’t have enough processing power at the moment to respond. Just as Prowl said it, he twisted his servo a bit and rubbed hard at the outer node, sending Swindle over the edge of his overload with a groan of, “Slaag!”

“That’s one.” Prowl declared, despite not slowing his motions. Swindle squirmed at the continued attack on his node, biting his lower lip plate to stifle another groan. The officer’s hold was still firm around his neck, but the previous ‘not enough’ had turned into too much sensation after his overload finally came. Prowl flexed his fingers again and Swindle gasped out, “Y-yah, one...but-!”

Prowl grabbed the back of the dealer’s helm instead of his neck cables and made Swindle look at him. The tradesmech could swear the cop’s optics were brighter than before. The hand against Swindle’s interface slipped out of his valve as well, thankfully giving him a moment of reprieve from the overly intense pleasure.  
“Turn around.” The order took a second for Swindle to process, but he shifted to do as he was told. His arms were still in the air, and trembling slightly from having to stay up with a pair of stasis cuffs on them for so long. The terrible idea that Prowl might just shoot him in the back crossed his mind, but Swindle cut the thought loop off as he felt the officer’s servos reach up to the cuffs around his wrists. Wait, was he-

Prowl unlocked one side of the cuffs and pulled Swindle’s arms around behind his back with a firm hold, snapping the restraint back on when they were in position. Nope. Still cuffed. At least Prowl had the decency to let his arms down and get some energon flowing in them again.

“You know, for a second I thought you were actually letting me-” Swindle’s comment was cut off as Prowl shoved him forward. Without his servos free, the dealer had to turn his helm to avoid going face-first into the floor. He shot a glare back at Prowl, but it shifted to widened optics a nano-click later. The cop was behind him, using the servo that was still covered in Swindle’s lubricant to leisurely stroke his extended spike. Prowl’s expression was somewhere between a scowl and impatience as his free hand came up to grab Swindle’s hip.

“I didn’t say you could speak.” Swindle shut his open intake with a click of his denta, deciding that it was probably a good idea since he’d almost busted his faceplate open on the floor. Prowl shifted just out of his line of vision and the anticipation was just making more lubricant pool in Swindle’s valve. Sure, technically this was all part of the deal, but Swindle never said he didn’t _like_ taking this kind of payment.

Prowl adjusted his grip on the other mech’s hip and lined his spike up with the valve opening, running a calculation that only lasted a nano-click before he slid in with one, smooth thrust. Swindle pressed his face against the floor and couldn’t help a loud moan at the sudden fullness, valve fluttering as he adjusted to the new intrusion.

Swindle could’ve bet chits on the fact he heard the officer give a satisfied sigh before he drew back and thrust again. The dealer tried to push his hips back against Prowl, but the cop’s grip was still firm on his plating, keeping Swindle in place as tempo ramped up to an almost bruising pace. It wasn’t long before Swindle was edging on another overload, servos clenching in the stasis cuffs and a bit of oral lubricant leaking out his open intake.

He felt Prowl shift slightly and thrust again, this time lighting up a whole new cluster of nodes inside his valve that had the dealer crying out as he hit his second climax. Though his valve tightened and slowed Prowl’s thrusts a bit, the officer still didn’t stop. Instead, Prowl leaned forward, bringing his other arm around and found Swindle’s external node again, giving a firm rub. Swindle practically howled and spread his legs wider, arms pulling against the stasis cuffs in his struggle to get closer to, or away from Prowl’s cruel servo and spike.

“That’s two.” Prowl’s previously informative tone was lower in pitch, and slightly rasped as he continued to thrust into the dealer’s valve. If the tradesmech could think straight, he’d almost guess that Prowl was liking this more than he let on.

Swindle’s third overload was already building on the remaining waves of his second, and all he could do was ride it out, arms tied and leg struts threatening to give out if Prowl released his hold. With the added pleasure from his node, Swindle reached his last overload embarrassingly quick. At least, he would be embarrassed, if he had a single process that wasn’t completely focused on one of the best frags of his function.

Prowl had an overload of his own just as the dealer’s valve cycled down, thrusting a couple more times before he stilled. Once the cop pulled away, a mix of transfluid and lubricant dripped from Swindle’s interface and down his legs as Prowl let go, leaving the dealer to flop strutless on the floor.

“And three.” Prowl’s vocals were slightly strained, but still maintained that authoritative air even though he just fragged the other mech through the floor.

Swindle’s fans were barely keeping up with his overheated frame, but his interface-fogged mind was starting to clear a bit. He couldn’t help cracking a small smile, because the best part of all this?

He had the key the whole time.

 

 


End file.
